"'"They're all nicely," he says. "But now, Tom, I must do my duty. I mustn't take the Queen's bounty for nothing. I've got to make a meal of you!"
"'"Duty's duty," I replies, swimming as hard as I knew how to; "and a very toothsome meal I'll make. But, my dear friend, how would a nice bit of pork do to begin with?"
"'"On with you then," says he, "if you've got it."
"'"Lie round on your side then, Mr. Shark, and open your pretty little mouth."
"'Round he lies as docile as a cat, and opens a mouth as big as the almshouse door there. I could have slit him down the stomach then and there; but Tom Finch never did a mean thing—thank you, ladies, I will taste again—so I just pitched him a piece of pork, and he caught it like a dog would a morsel of biscuit.
"'Then he winked to me.
"'"More!" he cries,
"'I flung the other piece as far as I could fling it.
"'"Don't do that again, Tom," he says, "else I'll have to begin at the other end of the banquet."
"'My heart began to quake a little now, and the shore seemed a longer way off than ever. I tell you what, ladies, I was getting a bit funky. But there was nothing for it but heave another bit o' pork.